Since my early twenties (I'm 40 now), I've been waking up little by little: one crisis at a time, one pill at a time, one realization at a time, one recovery at a time.
You'd think it gets easier with time. It doesn't.
It's lonely, exhausting, and still the most worthwhile thing I've ever done.
Beyond health for me and my loved ones, all I ask for is clarity, discernment, wisdom, and the ability to guide my son toward a life where he feels so free and so aligned with himself that he gets to design it exactly as he chooses, no impositions, just his own blueprint.
My son turns 13 soon.
I should warn him: "living a life that’s truly yours, not the one others expect, has a steep social price.
People will pull away. You’ll feel alone for long stretches. Finding your tribe isn’t guaranteed.
But faking it to fit in costs your soul.
Faking your life is hard.
Finding your true self is hard.
Choose your hard.
I’m here no matter what".
Yeap, this is definitely a pending conversation... Parenting is fucking hard. 🌻